


Shipment

by TheTriggeredHappy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, it’s literally just trans scout. that’s the fic, the discord was talking about trans headcanons and i remembered this was in my drafts, trans!Scout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTriggeredHappy/pseuds/TheTriggeredHappy
Summary: A new shipment of uniforms comes in and Scout gets a pleasant surprise.





	Shipment

**Author's Note:**

> [[shoutout to the discord. love yall]]

 

Scout sat, hugging his knees to his chest, and stared at the box containing the new set of uniforms that he’d received.

 

It had been about three months since he’d joined the team, and upon arrival it had been said to him that he would be expected to provide himself with his own hygiene products and personal items, and upon review a certain amount of money would be set aside to provide for most of them. He’d assumed, correctly, that this meant he had to bring his own toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, et cetera—and luckily he also figured that this would include underwear for himself. He’d been right.

 

Now, he received a sort of GI version of most of his hygiene products along with about a dozenextra sets of his uniform, three pairs of shoes, two dozen pairs of socks, two extras of his baseball cap, an extra headset, and about a dozen rolls of bandages (usually he just nabbed them from Medic, so this would help a little bit). He’d gotten three tubes of toothpaste, a stick of deodorant, a large bottle of shampoo, two bars of soap, and a single throwaway shaving razor (which Scout couldn’t help but feel a bit offended at).

 

Most notably, along with the other things, he received ten pairs of boxers and five of briefs, half of the boxers and all the briefs a small, the other half of the boxers in extra small.

 

He’d never worn a pair of any before.

 

Back home, he’d never dared to buy men’s underwear. He looked just enough like his brothers that people would _have_  to recognize him, but different enough that people would know it wasn’t one of the boys, it was the little sister of those beefy hooligans. And why would she be buying a small or extra small in boxers? They’d never fit her big brothers. People would know. And Ma would be losing her only daughter, the one she’d always gushed would be wearing her old wedding dress one day, the one who she nearly cried at when that only daughter cut all her pretty ginger hair off and stuffed the choppy parts into a cap in order to try out for the baseball team when she was sixteen years old and tired of taking shit because softball wasn’t a “real sport”, tired of taking crap for wanting to be treated like a boy because he _was_  a boy, damn it.

 

She was tired. _He_  was tired. That’s why Scout signed the papers to apply for this job and marked himself as a guy. He’s a guy.

 

Medic knew, mostly because of that time after battle that first week, when Scout had shown up in the medbay, tear-streaked, with two broken ribs from the ace bandages around his chest. Medic had yelled him to high heaven for taking the risk of binding with an ace bandage and had personally sewn together a replacement for him. He’d asked Scout to just do a surgery, but Scout didn’t take the offer until Medic had to cut into his chest anyways to install the Ubër mechanism. Medic hadn’t told anybody, and personally fended off anyone who seemed to be getting too close to knowing about Scout’s little secret.

 

He had a feeling that Spy might just have figured out that something was up, but he couldn’t be sure. Sometimes he thought that Pyro might know. The rest... Scout figured the rest were clueless. All the better.

 

But his current predicament...

 

Scout got up and walked to the box again, picked up the lid again, moved it aside again. A pause. He began to put away the rest of his uniforms—admittedly he was down to two shirts that were completely clean and three that were only _sort of_  bloodstained, so the new ones were a welcome change. His pants were re-folded, his socks in the drawer and his shoes in their place in the corner by the closet, the hats on the dresser. The other stuff he put in the little box he kept his toothbrush and stuff in after the incident where someone (probably Soldier) took someone else’s (Demo’s) toothbrush and that someone (freakin’ Demo) has in turn taken someone else’s (Engie’s) toothbrush and it had been a whole stupid mess. After that everyone kept their stuff in their own place.

 

And he was back to staring at the boxers.

 

This shouldn’t be a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just underwear.

 

He went to put them on.

 

He had always been careful about his laundry, making it his business to know when everyone else was doing theirs, and never, ever going at the same time. As long as his things were in the washer or dryer, he stood by and waited for it to finish. And when it was done, he waited to fold it in his room. Nobody ever questioned it, and he was glad.

 

Now... he didn’t have to worry about that anymore. He was free of it.

 

Holy crap.

 

He stood to look at himself in his full-length mirror.

 

Holy crap.

 

Shirtless, wearing a pair of boxers. And he looked like a guy. No scars from the operation that Medic had done, and the boxers were baggy enough that... He looked like a guy. He finally really just looked like a guy. He...

 

Holy crap.

 

Scout dashed to the door and had his hand on the doorknob before he remembered that he couldn’t exactly go to the team and blab to them about this big turning point. They would all just... he didn’t even know, which was even worse. He could only tell—

 

So he made for the infirmary at a full run.

 

He ran through the double doors and found Medic and Heavy sat inside, Heavy on a gurney, apparently freshly stitched up, and Medic at his side cleaning up his tools. Heavy furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of his younger teammate half-dressed, while Medic’s eyebrows shot up, glancing over him with surprise.

 

Scout stiffened when he saw Heavy. He’d forgotten entirely that Heavy was always around here. Shit.

 

“Er,” Medic spoke first, “Heavy, would you mind? I think our teammate has something to discuss with me.”

 

“Da.” Heavy moved to stand, a little hesitantly at first. “Is... leetle Scout okay?”

 

“Ja, ja, the boy is fine,” Medic said, shooing Heavy along. “But I cannot tell you anything he does not tell you first, patient confidentiality. I cannot say a word!”

 

“Not even to me?” Heavy asked, joking, smiling, and Medic tried to give him a scolding look, but it was broken as he smiled too.

 

“Nein. Not even you. Now get! Mush!” Heavy exited the medbay and Medic shut the door behind him, leaning against it heavily for a moment. He listened carefully for a second before grinning, half to himself and half to Scout. “The man needs to learn to quit,” he laughed, and he was standing, guiding Scout to sit where Heavy had been sitting only a minute prior.

 

“I didn’t mean to intrude or anything, Doc,” Scout started, feeling guilty. “I mean, I can wait until mornin’—“

 

“Nein, nein, he was simply... ach, never mind it,” Medic said, waving it off. Scout took his spot on the gurney, and Medic returned to cleaning his tools. “Now, what brings you in here at...” He consulted the clock on the wall. “...11:30 PM on a weekday?”

 

“Well, they sent us a shipment of new uniforms an’ stuff, right? An’ it’s the first one I got that included personals, right?”

 

“Ja, I got a shipment too. For once they sent me enough bandages.” Medic gave Scout a look over the rim of his glasses then, and Scout grinned sheepishly.

 

“Uh. Wow. What a funny... happenstance,” he said carefully, and Medic scoffed. “But anyways, they included underwear an’ stuff right, an’—boxers, Doc! I got sent boxers! I ain’t never gotten to wear ‘me before! They’re comfy an’ it’s just... real cool is all.”

 

Medic glanced over with a small smile. “Yes, I had to send in updated measurements for everyone a month or so back. I may have fudged some numbers here and there. What you are currently wearing, mein friend, is a pair of standard issue boxers courtesy of Mann Co, the same pair as every other mercenary on this base. Er, as a note,” he said, voice dropping slightly, “I should say that Soldier is the only one who ever really puts on briefs. They are not terribly comfortable.”

 

“Thanks, Doc.” Scout swung his legs. “Uh, so what was Heavy in here for, anyways? Or, is that another “patient confidence” thing?”

 

“Confidentiality, und no. That is my personal life.” Medic looked up with a bemused frown at the rafters towards where his birds were perched, asleep. “I suppose that this is technically both medical and personal for you as well, so I don’t think it would be unfair to tell you... hmm.”

 

“Tell me... what?” Scout asked slowly.

 

“Hmm. Ach, I may as well!” Medic said, laughing. “How to start? Well, me und Heavy are certainly long-time friends, as I’m sure you’ve gathered?”

 

“Uh, yeah. The best pair’a guys on this team, like, better than anyone else I can think of,” Scout said, smiling.

 

“Ja, precisely. But recently, I believe that Heavy may be trying to... ugh. What’s the English word? Is it another of the same, flirten?”

 

“Flirting?” Scout asked, surprised.

 

“Ah, yes! That! He has been flirting with me whenever we are alone.” Medic continued to polish a scalpel that was apparently putting up quite a fight. Scout gaped.

 

“And... and you’re... you’re not mad at ‘im about it?” Scout asked.

 

“Oh, of course not! I would return his flirting if I was any good at it, I’m just not. Never have been!” Medic apparently was satisfied with the job he did on the scalpel and moved to start putting things in their correct places. “He is a good man, and I care for him very much. I do not think being in a relationship with someone on your team is a bad thing, so long as you can remain professional during work hours, ja?” Medic turned to Scout, eyes glittering. “So, there. I know something about you, und you know something about me. Don’t tell Heavy I said any of this, bergreifen?”

 

“Uh...” Scout said, frowning.

 

“Understand.”

 

“Oh! Yeah, okay. I’ll keep my lips sealed, no worries Doc! Like a steel vault! Ain’t nothin’ comin’ outta here!”

 

Medic rolled his eyes, returning to his cleanup job. “Now, a piece of advice, Junge? Do not suddenly go prancing about the base in boxers, it may be a bit odd to everyone else. Ease into it a bit. I know that weekends tend to get a little loose, especially on hotter days. Maybe try shirtless one weekend, und a month later try boxers if you feel comfortable.”

 

“Huh. Good point.” Scout swung his legs idly. “You’re a smart dude.”

 

“I know,” Medic said coolly, and he broke into a grin when Scout lightly kicked at his arm. “Any other business?”

 

“Uh... nah. I was just pumped is all.”

 

“Alright. Then go to bed! You need your rest!” Medic said, shooing him with one hand and a stern look. “You are a growing boy, you need sleep!”

 

“I’m well over twenty years old, Doc.”

 

“Did I stutter?! Shoo!”

 

Scout was ushered out of the medbay and the door shut behind him, and he was jogging cheerfully back towards his own quarters, perfectly comfortable for the first time in a long time.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [[tumblr is thetriggeredhappy and scout is trans fight me]]


End file.
